Delirious
by Lucien Gray
Summary: m/m slash intending. Don't read if you're not IN to this stuff. Sirius is the main character (who else?)
1. Sirius Black

Delirious

Delirious

Chapter One: Sirius Black.

It was cool for summer and the streets had been freshly washed with rain. Sirius Jeremiah Black sat huddled in the doorway of an abandoned building, reading. He wore a filthy wife-beater and over-sized plaids held up with string, things that the local housewives had given out to homeless children last Easter. Only, Sirius Black wasn't a homeless child. He lived in a one-room shack with his alcoholic mother and spent most of his days picking pockets for a living.

The eleven-year-old hooded his eyes and sighed, crumpling the letter in his hands. He had found it in his mother's purse last evening and had stolen it when she wasn't looking. Katherine Stephens had a tendency to keep letters from her son, paranoid as she was of her numerous ex-boyfriends finding out where they lived. She must have forgotten to burn this one like she had the others since the letter was dated from the beginning of July. Sirius bit his lip and spread out the letter again, smoothing out the wrinkles with one thin hand. 

It was a letter from a school called Hogwarts and from the monogram, it looked expensive. It announced that Sirius had a place in this school for witchcraft and wizardry, and that they were 'awaiting his owl'. If this was a prank, it was a very elaborate one to pull and to be honest, Sirius could name a few people who would want to play a joke on him. If it was a ploy to get to his mother, it was about as stupid as plans went. Still, hope flared in the boy's breast, only to be snuffed out by the harsh realities of life. Even if such a school existed, Sirius doubted that his mother could afford to send him there. After all, it was all she could do to send him to school now.

"There you are. Thought yeh'd never got the owl!"

A large booming voice jolted Sirius out of his misery and before he could react, he was caught in a hug by something that resembled a large bear. He struggled and spluttered, too shocked to say anything before he was placed gently back onto the ground. A giant stood before the eleven-year-old, positively the largest man that Sirius had ever seen in his life. His face was completely covered with hair and all Sirius could see were a pair of beetle-black eyes twinkling as he stared, open-mouthed, at the strange man who stood before him. 

"Well. We better get goin'. Can't keep the others waiting."

"Wait a minute. Owls? Others?"

Sirius narrowed his gray eyes and stared at the giant before him, cold logic descending upon his shoulders like a calming blanket. Logic and commonsense was what had kept him from starving for as long as he could remember, and the realization that the stranger wasn't making any sense somehow calmed the boy. The giant looked vaguely surprised before beaming.

"I fergot. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Sirius looked vaguely horrified when the giant held out a plate-sized hand, reaching out to grasp the boy by his arm. He braced himself for the jolting and socket-wrenching handshake that was to come and was mildly shocked that although the handshake was enthusiastic, Hagrid was surprisingly gentle.

"Yeh'll be needing explaining, being brought up by Muggles an' all."

"Beg your pardon?"

Hagrid looked sympathetically at the boy before him and shook his shaggy head. Sirius bristled at the look of pity and stood up to his full height, half-suspecting that he had been insulted.

"Muggles. That means non-magic folk like yer mum."

"Oh."

Sirius stared at Hagrid as if he had gone out of his mind. Then he reconsidered. Not many people would simply walk up to someone as filthy as he was and hug the living daylights out of him, so the reasonable assumption was that Hagrid was already bonkers to start with. It wasn't a comforting thought.

"So… I'm a wizard or something?" he ventured cautiously, glancing around for people that might possibly save him. Most of the people around looked surprised at Hagrid's sheer size, but quickly averted their eyes as if to avoid trouble. Sirius sighed inwardly. He hadn't expected help anyway.

"Yer a wizard al' right. Dumbledore said so hisself."

Hagrid practically beamed at Sirius as his beetle-black eyes glanced nervously around for eavesdroppers. Somehow it looked comical, and Sirius couldn't help himself smiling, even if the action was suspicious in its own right. 

"Yeh'll best keep that to yerself, see. It's a secret that wizarding folk live among Muggles."

Sirius folded his arms and hugged himself, not believing that of all the kids around that area, he was the one that was stuck with this raving madman. The giant seemed slow and incapable of lying and the intensity of his gaze somehow confirmed Sirius's belief that he was not all together there, but in spite of everything, the boy found himself liking the large and bumbling man. 

"So. Where are we going? Who are we going with?"

Hagrid smiled expansively and shook his shaggy head. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.

"We'll be getting James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, an' then we'll be getting up ter town to buy yer books an'-"

"I don't have any money."

Hagrid stopped short. Then he gaped at Sirius. Hands in pockets and shifting nervously from one foot to another, Sirius ducked his head and stared at his feet. His shoes had holes in them and he didn't wear socks. Embarrassed, the boy flushed and tried to scuff off the mud caked around his toes.

"Ye don't mean to say yer father didn't leave you any money?"

Hagrid looked incredulous when Sirius bit his lip and nodded. He cocked his head up at the large gamekeeper and glared. 

"I never met him," he spat, cheeks turning pink with shame and defense. "Mother never told me who he was, and seeing things as it is, he was probably one of her _clients_."

He half expected a look of disgust on Hagrid's face, but to his surprise, the giant only looked thoughtful. Hagrid scratched his chin and slowly smiled, reaching with his large hands towards the boy's face. Sirius recoiled reflexively but quick as lightning, Hagrid's hand curled around the space beside his ear. Putting a thick finger to his lips, Hagrid grinned mischievously and opened his fist. Sirius gaped. There was a tiny gold key in Hagrid's hand.

"Figured old Alastair Black'd do somethin' like 'at," Hagrid beamed. "He took care o' his own, he did."

Sirius remembered to close his mouth when the giant casually dropped the key into his hand, winking as he did so. Gold. Real gold. It was the first time he had seen it up close, and Hagrid simply _gave_ it to him. The giant's eyes softened as he took in the shocked expression in the boy's face. Then he stood and stretched.

"Haven't got all day, yeh know. Better get goin' or the shops'll close."

Hagrid thumped Sirius affectionately on the shoulder and gently shoved the boy towards the street. Stunned beyond belief, Sirius complied and began walking. If this were a joke, he'd have to laugh along with it. But until it was proven, it felt good to hope.


	2. James Potter

Delirious

  
  


Delirious

Chapter Two: James Potter.

St. Mungo's Orphanage for Wizards and Witches was situated on a hill overlooking the sea. Small and quaint, it housed over fifty wizard children and was run by the Sisterhood of Nimue, a peaceful branch of the Order of Merlin. Originally established in 143 a.c. as a nunnery for the more devout witches, St. Mungo's Orphanage developed when the sudden influx of orphaned children from wizarding families threatened to expose the wizard community to the Muggle world. The Dark Lord was rising in power, and more and more, people were beginning to panic.

Sirius Black browsed through the leaflets he found in the foyer, reading up the history of St. Mungo's as he waited for Hagrid to finish his business. He had questioned the gamekeeper the entire time they were on the bus from Liverpool and through the goodnatured answers, had developed an idea of what the wizarding world was. Flying witches on broomsticks came as a shock when he arrived at the cosy orphanage, and Sirius had nearly fainted when he was 'greeted' by a three headed dog. Unable to handle anymore magic, Sirius excused himself from Hagrid's company and offered to wait for him in the empty hall.

"Didn't your mother tell you it was rude to stare, young man?"

"Meep!"

Sirius jumped backwards, crashing into the wall as he stared wide-eyed at the picture of a scowling woman. Mother Miriam (1734-1843) furrowed her bushy eyebrows and glared disprovingly at the boy sprawled out before her. She was a large woman, perhaps in her forties and held a rosary that looked more like a whip. Heart hammering in his chest, Sirius got to his feet and stood awkwardly as he looked around for help.

"Well? Are you going to apologize?"

" 'M sorry, ma'am," Sirius mumbled, shifting from foot to foot. He looked like a beaten puppy as he hung his shaggy head. Mother Miriam's eyes softened and she snorted.

"Better get Sister Margaret to put you in a bath, young man. You smell a bit ripe."

"Um.. yes ma'am."

The pictures around him were slowly starting to come to life, each chattering amongst themselves as they took in the presence of the young boy. Suddenly faced by fourteen pictures peering at him through their frames, Sirius balked and backed away.

"I think you're scaring him, ladies. Would you mind if I took him away? Mother Helen's asking for him."

A hand clamped on Sirius's shoulder, sending the boy into a fit as he bounced away, flailing his arms about to protect himself. A soft laughter filled the air as the pictures tittered amongst themselves. Thoroughly embarrassed, Sirius slowly opened his eyes and looked at his assailant. It was a boy. A boy wearing a dress.

"C'mon. Hagrid and Mother Helen's waiting for you. We're going to Diagon Alley. Isn't that exciting?"

One square hand reached down in an offering, and blushing to the roots of his hair, Sirius reached out to take hold of it. The boy grinned and began to walk, pulling at Sirius to follow him.

"I'm Potter, by the way. All the boys around here are all called James for some reason or other. Are those Muggle clothes you're wearing? I dare say I'll have to wear those when we go to London. Awfully exposing, aren't they? Is that in fasion? What's your favorite quidditch team? I'm for the Halifax Hellraisers, even though they've yet to win a game this season. Do you play? I play Chaser, of course. It's a lot more exciting than being Seeker or Keeper."

Sirius listened carefully as James went on and on about the finer points of quidditch, nodding at the right moments as the wizard boy grew gradually more physical in his demonstrations. He realized he liked James for all his weirdness and desperately hoped they would be friends. All the boys of his age at home were either too snobby to hang out with him, or they were just like Sirius, desperately trying to make ends meet. James treated him like an equal and seemed to care what about what Sirius thought. Even Katherine hadn't paid this much attention. Not even when he crawled home with a broken leg.

"Do all wizards wear dresses? Katherine's boyfriend told me about men who wore dresses," Sirius blurted out suddenly, breaking James's incessant chatter. He remembered the crossdressers that his mother's boyfriend Derrick had once warned him about. Terribly short-tempered even when he was sober, the bastard had been drunk and violent, and Sirius had replied with the wrong answer.

It was funny now to think about it, since four weeks after the drunk had beaten Sirius to an inch of his life, Sirius found out that Derrick spent his nights strutting the streets in a sequin dress and fishnet stockings. Katherine had been mortified, breaking off her stormy relationship with Derrick and had naturally blamed her son for it. Sirius remembered the cold that had settled around the one-room apartment and dreaded to think what would happen if he went home wearing a dress. And yet, he found himself he couldn't help wondering if they had his size in black.

James stopped and stared at Sirius, looking confused for a moment before bursting out laughing. He flung an arm around Sirius's shoulders and waved his hands at the ceiling. Embarrassed by James's laughter, Sirius burned pink and ducked his head.

"No, you git. These are robes. A real wizard _always_ wears robes. Honestly, don't you have any?"

"No. These are all the clothes I have."

Suddenly aware of his state of dress, Sirius blushed furiously as he glared at James. It wasn't his fault that he didn't have better clothes to wear and he wordlessly challenged the other boy to tease him for it. To his surprise, James shrugged and nodded as if he understood, turning a sharp corner as he pulled on Sirius's hand. Walking along the narrow corridor, James nudged Sirius in the ribs and grinned.

"Stop looking so embarrassed. _I_ have to share my clothes with fifty other children here. It means that there're fifty robes to choose from, but it also means that I don't own any."

Sirius nodded shyly as James stopped before a large wooden door, ashamed that he thought the other boy would turn his nose up at him. James straightened his gray robes as he composed himself, looking neat, proper and intelligent as he reached out to knock on the door. The laughing, mischievous chatterbox had miraculously turned into one of the preppie schoolboys that Sirius abhorred, and yet, Sirius found himself trying to imitate James's composure.

"Come in, boys. Mr. Hagrid and I have just finished chatting. Please say hello to Mrs. Pettigrew and her son, Peter."

The Mother Superior's office was large and impeccably neat, decorated with photographs of children and the sisters, past and present. James stood tall and straight as he properly introduced himself and Sirius, shaking the hand of a small, nervous looking woman and then that of her son, a pudgy boy who looked like a frightened mouse. Sirius ducked his head in greeting, noticing the look of utter shock in Mrs. Pettigrew's eyes when she looked at his filthy clothing. Sirius tried to shrug it off like every other snub, but found that he was hurt. James and Hagrid had been so nice about his clothes, but this woman acted like all the snobs that had sneered at him on the streets. Somehow he had hoped that the wizarding world would be like James and Hagrid, but Sirius had the sinking feeling that most of them would be more like Mrs. Pettigrew.

Peter looked from James to Sirius and back to James again before ducking away to hide behind his mother. James rolled his eyes surreptiously, mouthing 'Mommy's boy' to Sirius. Sirius grinned shyly back at James, feeling slightly better that at least he had a friend that didn't care how he dressed and looked up at Hagrid, who beamed down at the little group. The Mother Superior, a small, wizened old woman smiled benignly as she and gestured towards the fireplace, holding out a can of fine powder. When Sirius looked questioningly at James, the dark-haired boy grinned and explained.

"It's called Floo-Powder. I don't suppose you have this in the Muggle world, but it's very useful. You take a pinch, toss it into the fire and step into it as you say your destination. C'mon. I'll go with you."

It was a sight to see Hagrid's impossibly large figure disappear into the flames, and for one horrible moment, Sirius felt as if he would faint. James smiled reassuringly at Sirius, every so often squeezing his hand with encouragement and nudging him forward when Mrs. Pettigrew, then Peter stepped into the fireplace. The Mother Superior pulled away the can of Floo-Powder as James reached out for it, clucking like a mother hen as she frowned at the two boys.

"You take of Sirius here. Mind, none of your usual fooling around with the Hogwarts people."

"Yes, Mother Helen," James smiled winningly. "I'll be a good boy."

Sirius bit back a laugh when he noticed James had crossed his fingers behind his back, but before he knew it he was pulled into the flames. The last thing he saw before the world faded into black and gold was the Mother Superior shaking her head, smiling. James was pressed up against him, a comforting bulk that told him that everything was fine. With one warm hand clasped tightly around his own, Sirius suddenly knew: magic was real.

And he was holding his hand.

  
  


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